Still Alive
by Eevil Hero
Summary: -one shot- Mello talks about the day he got his scar and how he made it out alive.


Disclaimer: I do not own Deathnote.

Grammatical note: I am well aware that "they" is not meant to signify a singular person, however it has been accepted before in professional writing, and it works best for this story, so deal with it. :P

To all others, thank you for reading :D

xXx

One of the few things I remember about that day is the pain. The intense, mind-numbing pain. I can't really remember too much about how it happened, and I really don't think I want to.

I remember that I was in L.A. and I remember I was with those mafia thugs, trying to show up that big-headed twit Near. And then I remember that I wasn't.

There was fire everywhere. I couldn't see, couldn't breathe. I tried to run, but I didn't know where I was going. I tripped, lost my shoe. Smoke choked me. I coughed, couldn't breathe. People were screaming, I didn't know where. I crawled, searching for air, seeking a way out.

I took so many turns that I lost track of where I was. After a while I lost track of the others. I couldn't hear them yelling after me any more. I don't know where they went or if any of them survived.

I remember when the ground - the very earth beneath me - began to shake. I knew the building itself must be collapsing. I heard an almost deafening crack to my left, then there was a loud hissing sound and I was hit in the face by gallons and gallons of boiling hot water. One of the pipes must have burst in the aftermath of the explosion. I screamed and tried to get away. My arm was on fire, or it felt like it was. The steam burned me almost as much as the water. The vision in my left eye slid in and out of focus and I prayed I wasn't about to go half blind.

I pulled away from it and collapsed, screaming and clutching my face. I could feel the skin blistering already, knew it would leave a scar. My arm was useless for now, the flesh there having suffered second, maybe even third degree burns. I hugged it to my chest and tried to stand. I had to move, had to get out, but the world was spinning now and I wasn't sure I could make it.

Something fell on me, I don't know what. I don't know where it came from or how it hit me with such a powerful force, but it knocked all the remaining air out of me. The ribs on my left side caved, some of them broken now, but I stumbled on. I had to.

I don't know how long it took me. I don't know how I managed to even open the door to the outside, but somehow I made it out.

I stumbled down the alley in which I had emerged. I tripped over my own feet and fell again. I heard my clothes rip from the fall and knew the skin beneath it tore, but I could barely feel it.

I coughed and choked, unable to move for several minutes. The light from the sun hurt my eyes and I turned away from it. I tried to stand again but I couldn't. I braced myself on the brick wall of the building beside me and coughed until my throat was raw. There was more smoke than oxygen in my lungs and the cold, clean air of the outside world made it hurt to breathe.

I collapsed onto the ground, gasping and choking, but still breathing. When my lungs cleared I lay there for a few moments longer, trying to calm my racing heart but then the pain started coming at me in full force. My adrenaline must have slowed it down before, because I could move before. But when it hit me, really _hit_ me, I could hardly even see, it hurt _so_ much.

I bit back another scream. I closed my left eye, hoping it was still functional, knowing it might never work again.

I rolled on to my right side, my good side, but it didn't help much. The wind whipping across my burned and bloody skin hurt more than I had thought it could. Burns killed nerve endings, I thought. It turns out only half of them were dead, the other half simply exposed to the elements. I really did scream then.

I knew if I stayed there I would die. If my injuries didn't kill me, the remaining mafia would.

I reached into my pocket with my right hand and pulled out my battered cell phone and prayed that it still worked. I had to open it with my mouth because moving my left arm at all would have hurt too much to bear.

I pressed a number on my speed dial and waited, praying for an answer. But when I got one, I was too weak to speak.

The person on the other end sounded confused. Worried, even. Why had I called? Why now? Why wasn't I saying anything?

I tried to explain, but all I could do was cough. Even that hurt, what with my broken ribs. I finally managed to say a few words, and apparently that was enough. Help was coming.

I knew I must have looked a bloody mess, but it didn't matter. I was _alive. _

I waited for what seemed an eternity. My cell phone lay silent beside me. My fingers curled around the crucifix hanging from my neck. I didn't even have the strength to pray – not that I thought it would do me any good anyway.

Night had almost fallen by the time I heard approaching footsteps. But I knew they wouldn't know where to find me. I heard my own phone ringing before I could even reach for it to call them myself. The footsteps came closer, following the sound of the ringning.

I lifted my head just enough to look at the mouth of the alleyway. My vision was going by then but I knew who was there. I think I smiled.

The footsteps grew closer and more rapid as the person neared me. They dropped to their knees beside me.

"Mello?" They whispered my name, sounding scared.

It took me a couple of tries before I could speak loudly enough for them to hear me. "It's… it's alright. I'm… still alive…"

Gingerly, carefully, they lifted me into their arms. I didn't think they had that kind of strength, but I guess I was wrong.

"You should have called me sooner," they said, chastising me even while I was in such a pathetic state.

Even so, I smiled, knowing I was safe now. Knowing I was saved. "I'm sorry Matt," I mumbled, my vision finally fading. "It won't happen again."

That's the last thing I remember.


End file.
